Running late

Lynne Patrick

I like to get my weekly post up and running first thing on a Wednesday morning, but I’m running late today, mainly because things began to happen the moment I opened up the office and switched on the computer this morning, and I don’t seem to have stopped answering e-mails ever since.

The reason is I’ve started to put the word out about Criminal Tendencies, the anthology we’re bringing out next spring in support of a breast cancer charity. And people are being amazing.

 

I’ve discovered over and over again in the past five years that crime writers are thoroughly nice people. I’ve met a lot of writers over the years, and in general, I’ve always found they’re pretty much the same mix as the rest of the human race: most are great, some have an undeservedly high opinion of themselves, a few are not very nice at all. But crime writers… So far I haven’t met one I didn’t like. Maybe it’s that they put all the nasty stuff into their work? Who knows?

 

What I do know is that over the past couple of days I’ve asked everyone who has contributed a story to Criminal Tendencies if they’ll help promote it when it comes out. And so far every single one has answered yes, bring it on. They’ve offered to distribute leaflets in the UK and US, (one has even talked her son into printing them for free!), share their own experiences of breast cancer with the media, give themselves writers’ cramp signing copies, mention the anthology in radio interviews intended to promote their own book…

 

As I said, thoroughly nice people.

 

What I need now are some imaginative marketing ideas. We’ve no more money to put behind Criminal Tendencies than any of our other titles; imagination is our prime marketing tool. For all twenty-six authors in the book it’s a key component of the talent they all possess in abundance: the magnifying glass through which they filter that essential spark and turn it into a great roaring blaze of story, which takes on a life of its own and sometimes runs out of control. For me, it’s what can we do this time that’s new and different? How can we convince this magazine editor or that radio producer that we’ve got something that will add sparkle to their books page or popular culture slot?

 

Or the other side of the marketing coin: how do we make the book stay in people’s minds long enough to get them to the till with a copy in their hands?

 

This time it matters even more than usual, because there’s so much at stake. Breast cancer has affected just about everyone I know in one way or another. Most women, and not a few men, know someone who has had it. Two of my closest friends are survivors; we heard the other day of a family member who unfortunately wasn’t.

 

So come on, imagination, do your stuff.

 

I know that if I sit and stare at the screen for long enough, an idea or two will begin to develop. But how many hours can I actually afford to spend doing that? Answer: about as many as an author who has a new book to write and a family and often a day job (not to mention Christmas – aaaaargh, the C-word!) to fit in as well.

 

It’s already starting to happen. The spark has ignited. We have a major bookshop chain on board, with a six-week promotion. And Crème de la Crime’s charity anthology will be next spring’s must-have, must-read, must-talk-about hit.

 

You never know. This time it may just happen.